Aware of all eyes upon him—Raayani's calculating gaze, Remin's cautious assessment, Iorina's lingering suspicion, and Yoana's ancient wisdom—Jolthar made his decision.
With deliberate slowness, he raised the stone, letting it catch the fading light of day one final time.
Then, with a single, decisive motion, he closed his fist around it and crushed it.
The world stopped.
For one impossible moment, everything was suspended in perfect stillness—dust motes hanging in the air, the distant flutter of imperial standards frozen in mid-wave, even the collective breath of those gathered held in sudden, instinctive anticipation.
Then reality collapsed inward.
A suction point formed with Jolthar at its centre, as if the very fabric of existence was being drawn toward him. The stone's power, released from its physical prison, sought its natural conduit—the essence of the Beast King now residing within him.
